


Nothing Outside the March

by gypsydancergirl (hauntedlittledoll)



Category: Batman (Comics)
Genre: All the Literary References . . ., Gen, Random Literary References for the Win
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-11
Updated: 2012-05-11
Packaged: 2017-11-14 09:03:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/513561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hauntedlittledoll/pseuds/gypsydancergirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Bruce Wayne that returned from time is not the same as the Bruce Wayne that left.  Tim takes responsibility for that; he knows how these stories end.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nothing Outside the March

**Author's Note:**

> Title and epigraph borrowed from Tom Stoppard's "Arcadia" which is one of the most brilliant plays ever written. If you have not read it, go and do so.
> 
> This was mainly an excuse to play with literary references. You can find mentions of Mary Shelley's "Frankenstein" . . . the Greek legend of Orpheus and Eurydice . . . Stephen King's "'Salem's Lot" . . . a Biblical tale of King Solomon's wisdom . . . and the fairy tale, "Little Red Riding Hood." I even referenced "Firefly."
> 
> Lit degree? How can you tell?

_"We shed as we pick up, like travellers who must carry everything in their arms, and what we let fall will be picked up by those behind.  The procession is very long and life is very short.  We die on the march.  But there is nothing outside the march so nothing can be lost to it.  The missing plays of Sophocles will turn up piece by piece, or be written again in another language.  Ancient cures for diseases will reveal themselves once more.  Mathematical discoveries glimpsed and lost to view will have their time again.  You do not suppose, my lady, that if all of Archimedes had been hiding in the great library of Alexandria, we would be at a loss for a corkscrew?"_

-Tom Stoppard; _Arcadia_  


* * *

In Gotham, the dead rise again.  Tim knows it to be so, because his brother has returned; one soul amongst the dozens of people that Timothy Drake-Wayne had lost.  It taught him a very valuable lesson: _Death is not always forever._

Tim is always looking for his next lesson.  His secret identity as an avid college student is built off Tim’s incredible desire to know and understand everything under the sun.  He’s not afraid of putting in the work—hours of patrol with Western Lit to begin the morning round of classes and maybe a nap in the afternoon before training.

Tim knows secrets, commands heroes, and has been gifted with opportunities that no other man has ever been given.  It adds on to that valuable first lesson, and Tim could do anything with that power.

He has been _tempted_.

But Jason is always held up.

Tim stays his hand.

Tim’s predecessor is his example, his warning, a Frankenstein’s monster of modern times.  Jason Todd was built by a gallery of the insane.  This piece came from living on the streets, and this piece was the result of being trained by the Batman.  This is the wreck that the Joker had made of him, this is the hurt of his birth mother’s betrayal, and this is what Talia molded of him.

_Death is not always forever._

But death causes a permanent change, and Timothy is so good at learning the lessons that his mentors set him.  He does not call his parents back to him.  He does not summon his friends, or the first girl he ever loved.  Tim has learned this lesson, but it cost him all he has left.

Tim loses Batman.  He loses Robin.  Tim loses _himself._

And so begins his quest.  He is Orpheus searching for Eurydice.  He charms heartless men, travels where no one dares, insists on things that have never been done before, and barters for what he cannot win.  It would have been easier to sell his own soul, but Tim’s smarter than that.

He is Orpheus, and at every step of his journey, some wiser soul tells him to turn back.

Tim presses on.

In the face of all opposition, despite his own doubt, Tim follows his mentor’s journey, intent on bringing the true Batman home so that Tim can be Robin once more.  He reminds himself not to look back.  That was Orpheus’ mistake, and like Orpheus, Tim’s steps do not falter until the end.

But Tim has learned from others’ mistakes.  Tim knows these lessons by heart.

He steels himself for that final step, and then he is in Bruce’s figurative embrace.  He has looked death in the face and claimed what is his.

And it is very good.

It is so good, that no one questions the changes that Bruce begins to institute.  Tim has the ear of his mentor, and he surrenders everything asked of him the way that Tim always has.

Then Bruce cedes his city—his kingdom—to the next generation, and takes new ground on a much larger scale.  He capitalizes on Batman, choosing his new pawns with either the greatest of care or the merest whimsy; Tim can’t decide which.  Bruce is the public face and the dark underbelly all at once, his personalities fully merged as his grasp stretches across the globe.

He’s—they’re doing such good work.

No one begrudges the offerings that such a system of mercy and protection demands . . . wealth, food, power, and a never-ending supply of soldiers.  Batman has finally become the vampire that he was always rumored to be.

And like the Stephen King novel, the idea alone of Batman is like a spark to dry kindling.  Bruce takes advantage of what is already there: the complex infrastructure of human relationships.  Batman uses everything that Tim has supplied him with, buys what few secrets remained, and the infection spreads.

Tim sees it, but who would believe him?  The curse started in Gotham, in the house that was supposed to be his home.

On the rare instances when Bruce returns to them, there are always the familiar promises of family and belonging.  Bruce knows what his sons desperately need and crave; Bruce _loves_ them.  They all believe it.  They have to.

 

_Even though the Robin title has not yet been returned to Tim._

_Even though Bruce commandeers both his old position and Robin when he’s in the city._

_Even though Damian is almost killed on that last mission._

Ever since Bruce had been returned to them, a divide has been slowly growing between Dick and Damian.  Dick can’t measure up to Bruce’s Batman, and Damian wants his father's approval so badly . . . even Tim recognizes as things begin to fall apart between the newest Batman and Robin.

Under Bruce’s tutelage, Robin flourishes and Damian backslides.  The cohesive teamwork—that had taken months, tears, sweat, and profanity the likes of which even the Navy has never dreamed—begins to fracture.  Tim is called to play the peacemaker because for the first time since his teenage years, Dick is one of the combatants.

It’s the way Tim always imagined divorce would play out if his mother had survived.  He tries to hide, and mostly they let him.  Tim is both the dead baby that no one wants to claim and King Solomon trying to decide the right parent to surrender the living child unto.

Tim doesn’t even _like_ Damian.

It’s Red Hood in the end who forces Tim to decide on that last patrol.  It is Jason Todd, Tim’s predecessor, his brother, his warning and lesson all in one.  He beats the others to Damian, because Tim has overcome scarier things than the Red Hood, and Tim has resources that the others don’t.

With the ten year old secure in his grasp, Tim manages to eavesdrop on the Red Hood’s grandstanding.  Jason had meant for him to hear it, and with one hand over Robin’s mouth, Tim listens the way he used to observe.

Even with how bad things have gotten at home—all the fighting and the hurt—Damian is Dick’s first priority.  Bruce is here for the reporter, Red Hood, and justice.

Dick’s entire body sags with relief when Tim walks into the room with a silent Damian in his arms.  Bruce nods as if he expected that outcome, and Jason . . . Jason is smirking at Tim from behind the stupid-looking helmet as he holds the gun on Bruce.

His lesson.  His teacher.

Confident that his message has been received, the Red Hood holsters his weapon, and makes to saunter off.  Tim just narrowly intercepts the batarang that the original Batman sends after his brother . . . in the meat of his shoulder.

Damian doesn’t even flinch in his arms, and Tim stands there in a wordless face off with the two men he most respected until their black sheep disappeared.  Then, and only then, Tim goes to Dick.  He hands over the little monster that is Damian, and stares hard into his oldest brother’s eyes.

“Run.  Don’t stop unless you hear from me.”

Unspoken is the promise to handle this, but Dick must consider it implied.

Then it is just him and Bruce—Robin and the Batman once more.

Red Robin wishes that his predecessor had not left, that he had not replaced the older man in this way as well.

Timothy knows this story.  It is his story, if not his name, and the oldest versions have no happy ending.  The child rarely has wit to save itself from the perils of her own naiveté.  Tim has not learned his lessons as well as he might have, and now he understands the doctor’s horror, Orpheus’ doubt, the nature of evil, and the perils of wisdom.

He grips the cold slippery metal, and pulls it from his shoulder.  He drops it to the floor, and the clang echoes.  Then Red Robin plays his role.

_“What big teeth you have, Grandmother.”_

The thing that isn’t Bruce smiles in play.

_“The better to devour you with.”_


End file.
